


Not anymore

by Lokomotiv



Series: Broke!Steve [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3537683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokomotiv/pseuds/Lokomotiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought back to his own response to Danny’s complaint, and he couldn’t help but to feel that there were a few too many things those very words applied to. And he missed them; all those things he couldn’t do anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Set in episode 1.19 (Na Me’e Laua Na Peio, Heroes and Villains).

> _Not anymore, buddy._
> 
> Steve McGarrett (Na Me’e Laua Na Peio)  
> 

“What, you think it’s so fantastic I’m gonna steal it?”

Danny sighed, and Steve couldn’t help but wince a little himself, even as he kept talking, going on about some special New Jersey sandwich. While he couldn’t really believe that he was saying what he was saying, he also knew he couldn’t suddenly back down. But as Danny waved his salad around in his face, Steve silently made himself acknowledge to himself that yes; he’d landed a bit on the paranoid side there.

“Huh. That’s actually incredibly sweet.”

“I appreciate that.”

The good thing about Danny was that he was easily distracted. A question about what Grace was learning had set him off on a rant about the utter ridiculousness of modern nutrition restrictions, and to all appearances Steve’s stupid outburst hadn’t seemed to set off any red flags in his partner’s mind. Steve nodded absently as Danny complained that when he was a kid you could eat anything you wanted, relieved that Danny hadn’t made a big deal out of his weird behavior.

Later, when they were done with the case, he thought back to his own response to Danny’s complaint, and he couldn’t help but to feel that there were a few too many things those very words applied to. And he missed them; all those things he couldn’t do anymore. He missed them so much more than he could have imagined.

The biggest, the most obvious one, was to be able to talk – or even _think_ – about money without the gnawing sensation that everybody knew that he was broke. He constantly had the feeling that it was somehow written all over him, that he was giving it away in ways he wasn’t aware of. That people could just look at him and _know_. Thinking it through, Steve’s was self-aware enough to realize that his queries about Danny’s bag earlier had been driven by the nagging suspicion that Danny had somehow found out about his money trouble and brought lunch either to mock him or out of some misguided solidarity. He didn’t know which alternative he would have hated more, probably the latter.

These last few weeks, talking about anything that was even vaguely associated with monetary matters had been like prodding an open wound. He still hadn’t been able to shake off Danny’s words of a few weeks ago: _Unlike having lunch with you, they don’t care how the check is split; they just want the money_. It wasn’t unusual for Danny to take a dig at him, and he wasn’t particular about if he did it in front of the others or in private either, and most of the time Steve had no problem taking Danny’s snide comments in stride. But Steve had felt shamed by this one in a way that he usually didn’t, and he hadn’t been able to let it go. And he knew why. That particular barb had stung, probably much more than it was meant to, because it was true. He _had_ been arguing how to split the check earlier that day, because he hadn’t been able to afford the total, not if he wanted to eat for the rest of the week.

He had soon realized that even though meals out were a big strain on his limited resources, he couldn’t get out of eating out completely, not without making the team suspicious. He’d pared it down considerably the last couple of months, though, which had lead to his mortifying eagerness a few days back when Danny’s brother had asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner. The more he thought about that night, the more embarrassed he’d become, and that in turn had lead to his paranoia about Danny mocking him with his lunch bag. Steve felt his face heat as he thought of his own frankly ludicrous accusations. A special New Jersey sandwich, seriously? It was probably a good thing Danny already thought he was a bit crazy, otherwise that would have most certainly have done it.

He missed being able to say _it’s on me_ , just like that, without first having to run the numbers through his head to see if he could afford it. And oh, how he missed being able to just say _thank you_ when somebody else said it. Now there was always the uncomfortable question of _what will they think of me if I accept – again?_ And the worst part was that if they thought him cheap, he couldn’t really blame them because he _was_ a penny-pincher now, damn it. He just had a bit of a hard time acknowledging it.

It was high time for him to accept that about himself, he decided, so that Danny’s words – both those remembered and those undoubtedly coming sometime in the future – would loose their power to hurt him. But he somehow found himself rebelling internally at describing himself that way, and he sighed. He was very good at convincing himself about things that he didn’t feel to start with; he’d had to be, to make it through training and later ops. But now he found out that it was a lot easier to talk himself into believing that he was strong, that he could overcome any and all resistance, that he was brave; than it was to come around to the fact that he was a cheapskate. But then again, all those other things were things he _wanted_ to be. He didn’t want to be stingy. But he _was_ , and he knew how to convince himself of things he initially wanted to protest.

First he tried different ways of phrasing it until he found the one that caused him to react most strongly. Then he used logic and empiric evidence against any and all protests that arose inside him until he could no longer argue against the description. Finally, he repeated the statement over and over again until it stopped hurting. That last part was a new take on the familiar process; usually he’d repeat something until it just felt obvious, but again, those things had typically typically things he had actually wanted to believe about himself.

“I’m cheap.”

He tried saying it out loud, and yeah, that still carried a sting. He knew of course already that he’d have to repeat this process regularly for a while until he’d fully internalized this new fact about himself.

But he reminded himself again of the facts: he no longer bought beer, lunch, dinner, what-have-you for other people. If he did, he did so reluctantly. He complained about the cost. That made him cheap. There really was no two-ways about it.

He would get used to it. He would make himself get used to it.

He missed doing it though. Giving people stuff, or buying them beer or dinner – those were all things he couldn’t do anymore, not the way he’d used to, and he _missed_ it _._ He hadn’t really thought about it like that before, but it had made him feel good about himself to be able to buy a couple of nights in a nice hotel for Danny and Grace, or a new gun for Kono. If she’d graduated today – well, he probably would have tried to save up for something similar even now, but the point was that he’d bought her that gun without a thought as to the cost, and he _could not do that anymore_. Now he would have known exactly how much it would cost him. Hell yeah, he was cheap all right, he thought with a disgusted snort.

In a sense, it had probably been a good thing that he had pretended to having left his wallet behind that one time with Danny. That had been the first time Danny accused him of being stingy, and it had all been in good fun. The time before, the one Danny referred to, he’d actually forgotten his wallet. But that time at the airstrip, after they’d seen General Pak off, he’d had it with him. Of course, when Danny insisted he’d show it to him, he’d instead jumped at the opportunity to yank Danny’s chain and imply that he didn’t. He hadn’t actually lied. _Like I said, you’ve got good instincts_ , he’d answered instead, cryptically. He’d enjoyed listening to Danny’s ranting; in fact he’d found the whole thing kind of hilarious. He’d planned to pay the next few times to make up for it, of course, because back then he hadn’t been cheap. But that’s probably where the groundwork had been laid for Danny’s current opinion on his lack of generosity. And sure, it hurt a little that all the times when he _had_ paid for beer, or lollies, or a freaking _weekend at a high-end hotel_ , apparently weren’t as easily remembered, but yeah, probably a good thing in the long run.

It meant that his sudden economic awareness wouldn’t appear as sudden as it actually was, and it would be hard for Danny or the rest of the team to pinpoint when it started or guess at its origin. As far as they were concerned, he’d probably always been on the cheap side. He just hadn’t known them long enough for any impressions to the contrary to solidify, he supposed. Which was a good thing, he told himself firmly, again.

He would bring lunch tomorrow. A salad. Danny would think it was meant as a dig at him, but he could always borrow Danny’s gameplay and pull out the Grace-card. Danny would still think it was some sort of gibe, but he’d shut up about it. And it would hopefully open the door for Steve to start bringing lunch more often without having to answer awkward questions about it. That would be good. Because while everybody (apparently) agreed that he was cheap now, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get away with _never_ paying, so he could do with putting a little aside for when he had to pay for a round or two. Satisfied to have found a way to make use of his embarrassing lack of self-control earlier, he decided to call it a day. Foregoing dinner (just this once, he promised himself, because skipping meals was never a good idea in the long run, he knew that) in order to save that salad for lunch tomorrow, he went to bed hungry in his own home for the first time he could remember.


End file.
